


10 Minutes Late

by functionalgaypointdexter (forheart)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, mentions of previous suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forheart/pseuds/functionalgaypointdexter
Summary: Nursey, the serial texter, hasn't replied in 30 minutes.Dex assumes the worst.





	10 Minutes Late

Will’s day began as followed.

He woke up at 6:15, as he does every morning, a byproduct of spending summers working on his uncle’s lobster fishing boat. His first lecture isn’t until 8, which gives him enough time to shower, eat a granola bear, and tidy up his room from the frog movie marathon the day before. He found a navy sweater hidden under his backpack. It wasn’t his, the material was too nice. And Chowder didn’t own a sweater that wasn’t teal or black. Ergo this had to be Nursey’s. Will held up the sweater and snapped a photo. He then sent it to Nirsey, along with the following message.

 

Will:

Is this yours?

 

Followed by a photo of a freckled arm holding up a Navy sweater.

 

Nursey D Man:

Chyeah

 

Will:

Cool. Pick it up later.

 

Nursey D Man:

… that’s all you needed??

 

Sexy Dexy:

“Chyeah.”

 

Will stared at his phone for a moment, he reread Nursey’s unusually quick response time for this early in the morning, before pocketing it and walking over to his lecture hall. Maybe Nursey didn’t sleep last night. Wouldn’t be the first time, and college schedule demand it be one of many.

 

 

 

 

Ever since Will’s roommate got a girlfriend he’s become increasingly more scared to enter the room. Will saw Stanley’s bare ass one time and then he was traumatized for life. Whatever. The library was better for studying anyway. He had his designated table, fifth floor, back corner, away from staircases, elevators, and most importantly, other students. He adopted the Nursey studying method of spreading all his notes and books across the table to discourage anyone from even trying to approach his space. So far, he’s had forty five minutes of uninterrupted work.

And he’s been stuck on this same line of code for the last fifteen minutes. He squinted at the line. Where was Chowder when he was needed? A second set of eyes was always helpful.

He swiped his phone to message Chowder. He had a missed text from Nursey, sent ten minutes ago.

 

Nursey D Man:

i want to Die

 

Will:

Why?

 

Will sent another message to Chowder, asking if he’s started on the assignment yet, then put his phone down and continued with his debugging assignment. 30 minutes passed like nothing. His neck was sore, his shoulders were stiff. Will stretched his arms into the air over his head. He checked his phone, expecting at least three new texts from Nursey.

There was one from Chowder. He hadn’t started yet.

There was one from Will’s mom. She had to work president’s day weekend.

There were two from Bitty. The first one asking if he could take a look at Betsy, one of the stove tops wouldn’t turn on. The second one saying false alarm, Holster was looking at the wrong light lol.

There were none from Nursey.

 

Will:

Nurse?

 

Will put his phone down on the table, face up this time so that he could see the screen light up when he received a message. He faced his laptop screen, he typed away on his keyboard.

20 minutes later and there were still no new text messages.

Will’s heart raced.

He dialed Nursey. He held his breath with each ring. One, two, three, the person you are trying to reach is not available. At the tone-

Will hung up.

He opened the messaging app and typed to Bitty.

 

Will:

Have you seen Nursey today?

 

He then opened his chat with Nursey.

 

Will:

??!!!!!!

 

Will dialed Nursey again. Again, he held his breath with each ring. One, two, three, the person you are trying to reach is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording, you may hang up, or press one for more options. BEEP.

“Hey Nursey, it’s Dex” Will’s voice was too high pitched, he took a breath and tried to slow down. “Just checking up on you. I know you joke sometimes but please, please call me when you get this. Or text me or whatever. If I don’t hear from you in the next ten minutes I’m going to break into your dorm. That’s all. Bye.”

Will slammed his laptop closed. His drive to work was gone, all motivation to do anything was overpowered with a desperate need to find Derek.

Will shoved everything into his backpack, swung it over his shoulder, ran out of the library, typing rapidly on his phone as he left.

 

Will:

Have you heard from Nursey today?

 

Chowder Goalie:

A llitle this morning. Why?

 

Will:

I called him twice and he hasn’t texted/ called back

I don’t want to be obsessive but the last thing he texted me was “i want to Die”

 

Chowder:

Hmm. Last I heard from him was around 10

When did you call?

What was the context?

 

Will paused by a bench. He was halfway between the freshmen dorms and the library. His pulse was racing. He took a screenshot of his Nursey’s conversations that day and sent it to Chowder. Prior to the “I want to Die” text, Will had asked Nursey about the sweater in his dorm. But that was before eight this morning….

Will continued his run. He jumped out of the way of a cyclist, a sprinter, and two girls giggling in the middle of the sidewalk. His phone lit up.

 

Chowder Goalie:

Shit Im messaging him but he’s not online

Could it be his depression? He hasn’t mentioned anything today.

Did you try his roommate?

 

Will:

The roommate left yesterday, he gave himself a long weekend to spend with his parents.

Maybe I should call the RA…

 

Will reached Nursey’s dorm building. Will’s phone lit up again. This time the message wasn’t from Chowder.

 

Bitty Teammate: Yes

he was here an hour ago, but then he left to take a test

 

Will stopped running. Will bent over and finally, _finally,_ was able to release the breath he had been holding. “Thank god,” Will whispered to himself. He collapsed onto the stone entrance of Nursey’s building. He exhaled. He ran his hands through his bangs, felt the damp cold sweat on his fingertips. His face was red, his pulse was rapid, but Nursey was okay. “Thank fucking God,” Will whispered to himself.

He turned to the rapidly approaching footsteps and looked up at an equally out of breath Chowder, who wore nothing but pajama pants and a sharks hoodie.

“Dex, wha-”

“Bitty texted,” Will interrupted, “Nursey’s taking a test, that’s why he didn’t respond.”

“Oh thank god,” Chowder sighed. His shoulders untensed, he slumped over, as if all of his weight left his body. He sat down on the same stone step as Will, they stared up at the slowly reddening sky.

“That scared the piss out of me,” Chowder said.

“Same,” Will said, “Sorry to scare you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chowder said, he patted Will’s shoulder, “You’re being a good D Man.”

“Thanks,” Will half smiled, then it faded. He stared down at Chowder’s bare feet, he hadn’t put on shoes. “It’s just hard sometimes. Last time I was on Nursey Patrol, he hugged my arm and kept talking about how he wanted to die.”

Will had a flashback to that one frog bonding night, where Nursey shared the story of the one time he acted on it in Andover. And spent the Thanksgiving holiday in the hospital getting his stomach pumped.

Will spoke again, “I just wish I could be there more.”

Chowder’s hand rubbed at Will’s wrists, making Will realize that his hands were clasped into fists. He uncurled his fingers.

“Dude, I totally understand. He’s my best friend and it totally frustrates me when he feels that way,” Chowder said.

Will turned to face him but Chowder was looking down at his hand, and where it still was on Will’s forearm. Chowder’s constant need to be touching was something  that annoyed Will at first. But Nursey was even more affectionate than Chowder. Together, using their combined prowess, and exploiting Will’s weakness to Chowder’s requests, they had quickly bullied Will to accepting their hugs, their locked arms, and even sometimes their clasped hands. Will took Chowder’s hand in his and interlocked their fingers.

Chowder continued, “We’ve talked about it. From what he’s told me, he doesn’t want to die, but he has his lows for sure.”

Will knew. Will’s seen them first hand.

Chowder leaned against Will’s shoulder, “That being said, it would help if we both encouraged him to continue counseling, and we need to be there for him.”

“Of course,” he agreed. Will would live in Nursey’s hallway if he wasn’t in the most expensive freshman housing.

“Also don’t tell him I told you this stuff,” Chowder finally looked up at Will with those worried eyes he has, “I feel bad because it feels like I’m betraying his trust, but, like, you’re his d man.”

Will squeezed Chowder’s hand. “I won’t, as long as you promise not to tell him that I told you he got super wasted and through up all over my dorm.”

“You mean every other weekend,” Chowder laughed.  Will laughed too. Chowder spoke again, “Deal, and let’s both keep encouraging him.”

They sat on the step and continued to watch the sunset through the trees. Until the wind was too cold for Chowder and his bare feet. Will laughed as they separated.

~~

 

That statistics test kicked Derek’s ass. Metaphorical, of course. Because of that annoying little voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Dex that said, “Oh really Nursey? Did it kick your ass? Did the numbers stand ups from the paper and kick your ass?”

To which head voice Derek said, “Yes, the numbers came to life and kicked my beautiful biracial ass.”

Derek smiled to himself, take that head voice Dex. Derek won every Dex battle in his head, unlike in real life.

Speaking of real life and Dex, he had a few texts and missed calls from the guy. Derek scrolled through his phone as he walked the distance from his lecture hallway to his dorm. And a text from Chowder too.

 

C:

R U ok?

 

Derek frowned at his phone.

 

Derek:

i want to Die

 

Sexy Dexy:

Why?

 

Sexy Dexy:

Nurse?

 

Sexy Dexy:

??!!!!!!

 

It was then that Derek realized the mistake he had made. The mistake being that he, a person diagnosed with Depression, and having made an attempt on his life before, sent his friend a text saying that he wanted to die, and disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Derek felt only a little bad, mostly he was amused. Nice to know that Dex cares enough to dissolve into pure punctuation when worried.

He reached his building. He listened to his voicemail message as he walked the three flights of stairs to his hallway.

“Hey Nursey, it’s Dex.” Derek frowned, Will’s voice screeched through the phone. “Just checking up on you. I know you joke sometimes but please, please call me when you get this. Or text me or whatever.” He sounded out of breath.

“If I don’t hear from you in the next ten minutes I’m going to break into your dorm.”

Derek reached his hallway

“That’s all. bye.”

Dex stood outside of Derek’s door. He has two cups of coffee. His eyes lit up when they met Derek’s gaze.  He looked relieved.

Derek lost his breath for a moment. He pocketed his phone. “Hey.”

“Bitty said you had a test,” Dex said. He held out a takeout cup to Derek. “I figured you could use a little pick me up.”

“Thanks,” Derek said, he meant it.

And then there was a moment of silence between them. Dex looked at Derek like he was relieved to see him and Derek just didn’t know what to do with all of this. All of whatever this was.

Dex, being the emotionally constipated one, broke it with a cough, “I don’t know how you can drink that crap. It’s all sugar at that point.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m drinking it and not you. Keep your bitter crap away from me,” Derek unlocked his dorm, he held open the door for next.

“Your taste buds are weak,” Dex teased.

“My weak taste buds know true vanilla happiness, unlike your dead ones,”

Dex slipped off backpack and pulled up Nursey’s desk chair.

“Do you mind if I work on my coding stuff here?” Dex asked, “It’s quieter than at the library.”

Derek sat on his bed. He turned the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re going to stay no matter what I say right?”

Dex’s cheeks burned red, but he kept a strong gaze on Derek. “Yes,” Dex admitted.

Nurse nodded. “It’s chill.” He kicked his sneakers off, “I’m sorry I scared you man. I didn’t realize what I did until after the test.”

“It’s okay,” Derek said. He pulled his laptop from his backpack and placed it on the desk.

Derek lay draped himself across the bed and pulled up twitter. He mindlessly scrolled through it, not absorbing anything. He waited for the rhythmic tapping of Dex working on an assignment. It never came. Instead he heard a lot of fidgeting, and the squeak of his desk chair turning. Derek looked up from his phone.

“I know making those kinds of jokes is part of it,” Dex said, “but please say something more than that. Even just a second text that mentioned the test or being in a position where you can respond immediately.”

“My bad,” Nursey said.

“When you didn’t respond I asked Chowder if he’d seen you.”

“That explains his text.”

A beat of silence.

Derek drank his coffee, Dex looked back at his laptop. “I’m glad it was nothing.”

From what Derek could see of Dex’s face it was an impossible shade of red, “I’m glad you’re alive.”

And there it was again. The whatever was between. Derek wanted to poke and prod, to tease until Dex snapped at him like their usual relationship. But right now, he was high off the feeling that his friends cared enough about his well being to worry themselves sick over him.

Derek sat upright, he suggested, “There’s plenty of room on the bed Pointdexter.”

He’s tried that before. Dex always mumbled something along the lines of the desk chair having better posture. To be honest, Dex was the only one who used Derek’s desk. He kept it clear just for him.

But today Dex picked up his laptop, sat down on the bed next to Derek, and propped his laptop on his legs as he typed.

Derek watched, eyes wide, at this development. Dex refused to look at him. Derek pushed his luck even further. He grabbed his current Brit Lit reading assignment, The Merchant of Venice, already dog eared, highlighted, and double its size from the obscene number of sticky notes, opened it up to his current page and started to read. Slowly, with each page turn, he leaned more and more heavily against Dex’s left arm until he was fully against him. Dex didn’t push Derek away.

At one point, Dex lifted his arm. Derek pouted. Dex groaned, “Come on.” He gestured to Derek. Derek frowned. Dex sighed and looked away, “Get comfortable.”

Derek, cautiously, leaned against Dex again, only this time against his chest. Dex wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist and continued typing.

Derek smiled. To himself, to the universe, to his fucking depression, to whoever bothered to look. Today was a good day.

“The test kicked my ass,” he said.

“Oh really,” Dex muttered, “The numbers stood up off the page and kicked your ass.”

“Uh-huh,” Derek’s smile grew wider, “They kicked my beautiful biracial ass.” And then he leaned further again Dex’s chest.

Dex said nothing. But Derek could hear his heartbeat race.

 

**Author's Note:**

> 100% based on the heart attack my brother gave me a few weeks ago.  
> The only thing I wanted to do once he called me back, and reassured me that he was very much alive, was be in his space as much as possible. Like, i needed to physical see him and hug him to fully accept that he was there. It was frightening. 
> 
> So, yeah, here's Dex reacting the same way.  
> This is the first thing I've ever written for Check Please


End file.
